


Special Delivery From Skyhold

by OrangeTabby



Series: The Lonely King [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, Gen, King Alistair, kitten shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeTabby/pseuds/OrangeTabby
Summary: King Alistair's regular correspondence with Commander Cullen usually includes a gift exchange of books, cheese, wine and other items of interest. This time, however, a box arrives at Denerim palace that contains decidedly less cheese and considerably more kitten!A short, oh so very fluffy prequel story to The Lonely King.





	Special Delivery From Skyhold

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my daughter, since a) she has an intense tween-girl crush on Alistair and b) she wanted to read something I've written, since everything else is very unsuitable for little eyes!

King Alistair Theirin looked discontentedly at the large pile of correspondence on his desk.

“No, Bann Aetumal,” he muttered to himself, squinting at one of the letters. “You cannot conduct experiments on the Fade rift that opened on your lands. You particularly cannot send nugs in there to ‘see what happens’. Maker’s breath, why would you even want to? That rift needs to be closed as soon as possible.”

He tossed the letter into a box on which he’d scrawled “Inquisition’s problem” and picked up the next missive.

He started to read, then laughed. “A request from the Lady Hortense Frederickson to have Royal Librarian Hubert personally attend to her collection of, let me see, ‘lovingly curated short stories about Orlesian peaches’. Sounds fascinating. I’m sure it will thrill Hubert to personally attend her. And her peach stories.”

Alistair leaned back in his seat and ran his hand through his hair. The faint Calling in the back of his mind jangled. It was a false Calling, he was sure, but the music of the Blight was always a distraction. Especially if he wasn’t busy doing any of the more interesting Kingly jobs. For example, sorting through the correspondence that his seneschal, Mistress Torwin, had deemed important enough for him to review.

He looked up as a dark-haired dwarven man knocked briefly and walked straight in the room. Alistair’s Royal Problem Solver, Rory Steelgrip, strode into the room clutching a large wooden box.

Rory nodded instead of saluting since his hands were full. “Your latest package from Commander Cullen is here, Your Majesty.”

Alistair looked quizzically at the newcomer. “Rory? Are you my new delivery man? Is this some kind of protest because I don’t like you assassinating people?”

Rory placed the box on Alistair’s desk, right on top the pile of letters. “No, my King, I was just passing by and saw one of your servants with it. You know I enjoy a good unboxing.”

“You want to steal some cheese then,” said Alistair, narrowing his eyes.

Rory grinned unrepentantly. “Yes, but sadly I don’t think it’s cheese this time. I was informed one of the Skyhold stableboys escorted this one the entire way.”

There was a rustling noise from inside the box and something emitted a high-pitched squeak.

Alistair and Rory exchanged a glance.

“I don’t think it’s cheese this time either,” said Alistair. He opened his desk drawer and removed his favourite lazurite dagger, one he’d had since the Blight. Inserting the point carefully under the top of the box he levered it open.    

A small, fluffy tabby-striped ginger kitten stood in the middle of the box, staring up at him defiantly. It had bright green eyes, and someone had tied a lopsided pink bow around its neck. The little cat gazed at Alistair unblinkingly.

Rory raised both his eyebrows. “It’s a kitten, your Majesty.”

Alistair stared back at the kitten. “Yes, thank you Rory, I see that.”

Rory looked under the lid of the box and detached an envelope. “There is a note.”

He handed it to Alistair, who opened it and read aloud for Rory’s benefit.

 

_Your Majesty,_

_I received your last package safely and wish to extend my thanks. I’ve been looking for a copy of “Tevinter Infantry Tactics: From Tortoise to Bronto” for what seems like an Age, how on Thedas did you manage to get your hands on one? Clearly your literary connections are better than the Inquisitions._

_An explanation for the contents of this package: Skyhold’s finest mouser had kittens on my favourite coat and now the infernal beast insists on bringing her brood to my office each day, no matter how many times I try to shoo them off. Please accept this female cat from the litter as a token of the Inquisitions regard. I’m grateful in advance to you for taking one of them out of my hair, both literally and figuratively._

_Sincerely,_

_C. Rutherford_

_(PS. Sorry for the lack of cheese in the box, it was a matter of some concern that the kitten would eat it and become unwell. However, Inquisitor Cadash’s contacts in Western Orlais have a lead on an interesting type of Quillback cheese so I will try to include a sample in my next package.)_

Rory shot the kitten a dubious look. “Well. No delicious edibles here, so I’ll be on my way. Ah, good luck with your new pet, my liege.”

“Thank you Rory,” said Alistair absently.

Alistair always enjoyed his correspondence with Cullen, the man had become a good friend. Until now he’d been the recipient of Skyhold’s finest of unusual cheeses, relevant books and the occasional exotic plant cutting for the palace gardens. Livestock was a new development in their gift exchange. Tiny, female, orange livestock. Under his regard, the kitten managed more of a meow than a squeak this time.

He poked her cautiously in the side with the tip of his finger. The little beast turned and pounced on his hand, sinking her needle-sharp teeth into his thumb.

“You aren’t supposed to bite me,” he said accusingly.

She looked at him with her huge green eyes, then slowly blinked and started purring.

“Oh, now you’re just manipulating me.” Alistair and the kitten regarded each other for a long moment. She purred even louder, her tiny body vibrating with it. “Oookay, yes it’s working.”

He scooped the little creature up and held her against his chest. She reached up and batted the white fur trim on his mantle and when she was satisfied that the fur was subdued, gave his chest a head butt.

“We need to think of a suitable name for you. I warn you though, I’m not very good with names. The stable master banned me from naming any more of the palace Mabari after I named an important litter after flowers I like.”

The kitten climbed up the front of Alistair’s leather jacket and stood on his shoulder. She sniffed enthusiastically at his ear, then moved up his head. He felt her rough tongue in his hair, slicking it upwards.

“Hey, we’ve only just met. You are taking incredible liberties with my person.”

The kitten put a paw firmly on the top of his head and kept up her ministrations.

“Well then. I guess I belong to you now.”

There was another knock on the door and his seneschal Mistress Torwin entered the room, holding a large basket. She regarded Alistair and his new owner with her usual stern countenance. “Your Majesty, there appears to be a kitten attached to your hair.”

“Really?” said Alistair, wincing as the kitten dug her claws into his scalp to hold him still. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ser Rory informed me of your latest acquisition.” Her expression softened as she watched him submit to the ministrations of the little cat. “I’ve bought you this basket and have sent instruction for the servants to deliver a selection of kitten supplies to your suite.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you thought of a name for her?”

He awkwardly detached the kitten from his head and placed her on his desk. She looked at the pile of letters, sat down on it and began to clean herself.

“Something with dignity. Something that would suit a royal kitten.”

The kitten made a slurping noise as she concentrated on meticulously grooming her back leg.

“No more flower names?” Mistress Torwin’s thin lips twitched with amusement. “I’m not sure that division of Ash Warriors will ever recover from being imprinted by Mabari named after spring blossoms.”

Alistair smiled ruefully. “Well, to be honest I was considering ‘Poinsettia’ or ‘Gladioli’”

The kitten paused midway through grooming. She glared at Alistair with her little pink tongue sticking out of her mouth.

“Alright fine, you don’t like those.” He considered the kitten before looking back at his seneschal. “What do you think of ‘Edith’, Mistress Torwin? That’s a name fit for a Queen.”

The kitten ignored him this time, busy cleaning between her toes and gnawing fiercely between the soft pink pads of her paws.

“I’ll admit, Your Majesty, that my experience with cat names are more along the lines of ‘Tiger’ or ‘Fluffikins’, but your choice of ‘Edith’ seems to suit her.”

Alistair stroked the kitten’s soft fur. “Hello Edith, my ginger princess,” he said, bending down, so he was eye level with her. “I think that name is perfect.”

She stopped grooming and sat up, leaning forwards to sniff his nose. Edith reached up with one orange paw and tapped the side of it.

Mistress Torwin placed the basket on his desk beside Edith. “I’ve put a baby blanket in there for her, I imaging you’ll be retiring to your suite soon so she can sleep in the basket for the night.”

He gently picked up Edith and placed her on the soft blanket that was folded up in the basket. She sniffed it curiously, then began to knead it with her little claws extended.  

Alistair gave the kitten a proud smile. “We’ll retire now, since she’s given your basket her approval.”

Mistress Torwin bid him goodnight. Alistair wrapped his arms around the basket and headed out of his office, his royal guards falling into place ahead and behind him as they all processed towards his suite.

When they reached their destination he shut the door to his suite with relief, leaving his guards out in the hallway. It was always a joy when he could relax for the night and shut the world out for a few short hours. He scooped Edith out of the basket and set her down on the floor to explore his rooms.

The palace servants had placed a flat tray filled with sand in his private bathing room. He frowned at it. “What’s this for?” he said.

Edith trotted over to it and sniffed it, then hopped up and started scratching in the sand.

“Oh,” said Alistair, “I’ll, um, give you some privacy.”

There were two silver bowls beside his bookcase, one filled with water and one with what looked like very finely sliced meat. When Edith had finished using the sandbox she came over to investigate, eating the meat with relish. She held her tail straight as she ate, her fluffy tail quivering at the end with joy.

By the time she had finished eating and walking around the rooms, sniffing everything of interest, Alistair had changed into his loose sleeping pants and readied himself for bed. “Here you are,” he said, patting the handle of the basket, “you can sleep in here. It’s very comfortable.”

Edith looked at the basket, then up at his bed. She leapt at the bed, caught the side of his mattress with her sharp claws and hauled herself up onto the bed. The kitten glanced around, trotted over to his pillow, then sat on it and looked at him expectantly.

Alistair sighed and lay down beside her, using the edge of the pillow for his own head. “Goodnight Edith, I’m glad you’ve come to live with me,” he said, giving her ears a scratch.

Edith yawned and stretched, curled up into a tiny orange ball and fell asleep, safe in her new home.

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is in the same universe, Edith will also appear in my fic The Price of War (when they eventually get to Skyhold!).


End file.
